The Lost Settlement
by TARDISTraveller
Summary: A colony of settlers on Edyria 4 has gone quiet. The Enterprise crew has been sent to find out what happened, and where the Starfleet colonists have gone. But when they find wild animals instead of human settlers, the crew is in for a bigger adventure than they'd hoped.
1. Chapter 1

The Lost Settlement

Chapter One

Edyria 4

"Captain's log: stardate 4497.2. We're currently in orbit above Edyria 4, a small, uninhabited planet that Starfleet is hoping to populate soon. But the small group of settlers who are surveying this planet are nearly a week late in their check-up protocol with the Federation. We have been sent to investigate what happened to them and what this incident means for Edyria's future as a colony."

Jim clicked off the comm unit and chewed the end of his thumb nail. Missions like this always made him more nervous than usual. Maybe it was the not-knowing; the doubts; the fears. Give him a strategic problem and he could riddle it out with the best of them. But this...the waiting, the hoping, the dread. This was not chess. This was hunting; and he'd never been one for the sport. He didn't know if he wanted to find them or not; sometimes the former was worse than the latter.

The planet on the screen loomed in front of them like a great orange marble. It looked peaceful from here, but that was no guarantee: everything looked peaceful from far enough away.

"Mr. Spock, what can you tell me?" Jim asked, with a short, clipped voice that made everyone on the bridge tense.

Spock was in his usual spot, leaned over his scanners and monitors. His eyebrows rose as he turned toward the captain, making Jim's heart skip a beat. If Spock was shocked, then what could possibly be happening?

"Captain, I am picking up no human life readings," said Spock, with just a little bit of incredulity seeping into his steady voice.

Jim's mouth fell open before he even knew how to reply to that.

"None...at all? The settlers?"

Spock shook his head slightly.

"Scans do indicate multiple other lifeforms. Most likely indigenous animals."

Jim nodded, scratching his chin. How on Earth was he going to tell Starfleet that the entire settler community was gone? There were kids down there; families. Some of Starfleet's best scientists. Damn if he knew why settlers brought their families on these dangerous missions. Civilians were best kept on Earth, where it was safe. Not out here in unknown space...

Jim took a deep breath. He was starting to sound like Bones. And as much as he loved the guy, that kind of attitude didn't work for a Starfleet captain.

And anyway, something didn't feel right about this. Settlers didn't just disappear. And they didn't die for no reason. They were young and smart and strong; they would have at least contacted Starfleet if anything like disease or an attack had occurred.

James T. Kirk had never assumed the worst about a situation before, and he certainly wasn't about to start today. He pushed himself out of his seat and forced some semblance of command into his voice and stature.

"I'm going down there to see what's going on. Mr. Spock, care to join me?"

"Yes, captain." Spock gestured for one of the crewmem to take his place at the scanner.

Jim nodded in thanks and was relieved to find Scotty already standing at attention beside him.

"Mr. Scott, you take the Conn."

"Aye, sir."

With the bridge settled, they stepped into the turbolift. But when the doors swished closed, Jim let himself drop a bit of his commanding composure. He drooped slightly against the wall, staring into the space in front of him.

Spock took hold of the turbolift control and told the computer where to go.

"Is there any way your readings can be wrong?" Jim asked softly.

"It is possible that the metals in Edyria tampered with our readings," Spock assured. "It is also possible that the settlers moved to a different part of the planet, though I do not know of any other developments. We must not make assumptions because of a lack of facts."

Jim smiled at that, a soft twinkle in his eye. Maybe most of the crew only saw Spock as Mr. Logic, but he knew there was more than scientific theory behind those words.

"Thank you, Spock. You're right."

Jim noticed an almost imperceptible smile flicker on Spock's lips just before the turbolift doors opened.

. . . . . . . . .

Jim took a deep breath as he stepped onto the transport platform beside Spock and three security guards. Whatever the settlers' fate, they were about to find out. Good or bad, probably bad. And even if that weren't enough to make this trip foreboding, there were the definite life signs of wild animals. God only knew what kind of animals. Probably not goldfish.

"Set phasers to stun," Jim ordered, doing the same with his. "I want us all to stay together and move as a group. If anyone gets into trouble, we're beaming right back up. Got that?"

The murmurs from his landing crew were enough to satisfy him. He nodded to the transporter and took his position in one of the circles on the floor. Before long, he felt the familiar tingle up and down his body as they were transported down.

The planet had an orange glow to it, just like the view from the Enterprise. But it wasn't a pretty glow; more like Halloween. To make it worse, a light wind whistled through the jagged rocks, littering the air with dust. They covered their eyes as it passed over them. But even after the wind died down, there was no one in sight.

"Hear anything?" Jim asked, whipping his head around to search for anything - a noise, a person, an animal. But there was just...nothing. Rocks and sand and, in the distance, a bunch of empty looking buildings.

"Negative, captain," Spock replied. He was already set up with his Tricorder around his neck. He turned a slow circle around himself as he played around with the dials. "The rocks do seem to be interfering slightly with my Tricorder."

"Can you get it to work?" asked Jim.

"I believe so, captain."

As Spock got to work on his Tricorder, Jim and the security guards fanned out. They were careful not to go too far; none of them wanted to be caught out of eyesight in this formidable place.

Jim paced slowly, but still saw nothing. Rocks. More rocks. A blade or two of grass. Everything was so quiet and empty; he wondered briefly how the settlers could stand it.

Maybe that was why they always brought their families with them.

"Captain!" Spock's voice suddenly rang out.

Jim spun around, expecting the worst. But Spock seemed fine, just a little surprised. His eyes were wider than usual and he was staring ahead without blinking. Jim followed his gaze, to a spot somewhere beyond the farthest security guard, Bryan Corday.

And then Jim saw it. Emerging from the retreating dust cloud was a dog, running full speed.

"Bryan!" he shouted to the kid.

In a daze, Bryan turned to his captain. He seemed about to say something: ask why his name was called, or why Mr. Spock looked so worried. He didn't notice the rampaging dog coming at him until it was lunging toward his leg, and then it was too late.

When the dog bit into his calf, his bright eyes and his boyish pink lips widened in shock. The cry that the kid emitted instantly locked somewhere in Jim's chest. He knew immediately that he would never forget it. 2 years of Enterprise command under his belt and Jim would never get used to the sound of one of his crew going down.

Jim and Spock were at Corday's side in less than a second, but the dog already had a strong grip on the kid's leg. It nauseated Jim to think about what was hiding beneath the boy's uniform. Now that they were close enough to fire, he and Spock easily knocked out the dog with two phaser beams.

It had all happened so fast, but the kid was clearly hurting. He cried out every now and then, trying to curl around his wounded leg. Jim rested a hand on his shoulder, partially to hold him down and partially to comfort him.

"It's alright, Bryan."

"Dog's got a bite, captain," Bryan grunted through clenched teeth.

Jim stood only when the other two security guards were knelt beside their friend, taking his place as temporary doctor and confidant. His head spun as he got to his feet, and for a moment the planet's oranges and browns swirled together. Maybe it was the planet. Maybe it was the kid's scream finally sinking in. Maybe it was just this whole day.

He was okay a moment later, though. Commanders had to be okay. And he was even better when he realized Spock was already calling for medical transport.

"Thank you, Spock. I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, meaning it.

Spock replied only with a slight raise of an eyebrow before Jim felt the transporter beam locking onto him once more.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Jim knew that Bones wouldn't be happy before he even stepped into sickbay, but he had hoped the doctor would be a little kinder to his eardrums.

"What do you think you're doing putting that thing in my sickbay?" he shouted, referring to the unconscious alien lying locked up in the corner. "If that thing wakes up and breaks out of there, my whole crew is gonna be that beast's last meal."

"It's a dog, Bones," Jim said quietly, scratching behind his red-hot ear.

"A dog, my foot. The thing is purple! It's teeth are the size of my fist."

A slight chuckle escaped Jim's lips at Bones' description, which only made the doctor even more irritated. Jim held up a steadying hand before he could launch into another tirade.

"Okay. I'll keep a guard here at all times, and we'll get yet another padlock for its cage. But I really don't think it's dangerous anymore. You gave it the medicine, right?"

"Yes," Bones grumbled. "You're mighty lucky that was a treatable strain. It's in the same family as rabies. Then we might've been in some real trouble."

Jim didn't need reminding of that. He chewed his bottom lip and glanced over to Bryan, who was miraculously still asleep even after all of Bones' shouting. His leg was propped up, but it looked a lot better now that he'd gotten some medicine and treatment.

"Is he going to be alright?" Jim asked softly.

His eyes sparkled in that innocent way that drained all of the fight out of Bones. With a sigh, Bones let his shoulders droop.

"Might need a day or two off his feet, but he'll be just fine."

Some of the tension left Jim's shoulders, but certainly not all of it. He still had no idea what happened to the settlers and the dog's illness was not a very promising sign. But the optimistic prognosis did seem to spark a fire in his eyes.

"We're going back down there," he stated.

Bones knew he wasn't going to be able to talk him out of it, so he didn't try.

"I'm giving you all a vaccine before you go," Bones said. An order, not a request. "That includes both you and Spock. I'm not sure if I could take a rabid Vulcan."

"Understood," Jim said, letting a tiny smile brighten his features for a moment.

"And Jim?"

"Yes?"

Bones gave him the weary look of an exhausted mother of 430.

"Don't do anything stupid and reckless down there."

Jim let that smile touch his lips again. He tried to make it reassuring. But to Bones, it just looked rebellious; like a kid planning the biggest prank of the century.

"I wouldn't dream of it."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

If I Could Talk to the Animals

"Are you alright, captain?" Spock asked as they stood side by side in the transporter room.

Jim rubbed his arm grumpily.

"Does Bones beat you up with hypos, or is that just me?"

Spock didn't respond to that; just raised an eyebrow and turned to the security team coming through the door. The poor kids looked a little terrified, eyes wide and movements stiff. Jim couldn't blame them. Even with the vaccine, any more animal attacks would still hurt like the devil.

"Everybody ready?" he asked hastily, making his way to the transporter.

Sometimes he hated being the captain: having to display pure confidence in the face of the unknown. Or he at least wished for Spock's abilities to suppress emotions. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such a faker.

The landing crew joined him on the platform without a word. He noticed one of them, Sarah Michener, tightening her hold on the phaser by her side. His eyes glanced away immediately, letting her think he hadn't seen.

If he were in her position, young and unused to the perils of ground missions, he would feel the same. Hell, he did feel the same. Only his fears weren't for himself; he was afraid to watch another member of his crew injured because of him.

That was really what made him hate being the captain on those bad days when he did: the constant feeling of dread that sometimes gave way to guilt.

"Phasers on stun. We're going to beam down right into the settlement and there could be more of those animals hanging around. Stay vigilant and keep together."

The others simply bowed their heads in response. Jim decided this was the best he was going to get and gestured to the transporter chief to energize.

Just before the energy locked him into place, Jim adjusted his grasp on his own phaser.

. . . . . . . . . .

The settlement was a ghost town.

The whistling wind rang through their ears was the only sound. It carried dust and debris through the streets in tumbleweeds. Though Starfleet colonies were normally the peak of modernity, the place looked straight out of an old western film Jim had loved in his formative years. Desert. Barren. Devoid of life, other than he and his crew.

Maybe Spock's readings had been correct. Maybe the settlers were...

"Let's make our way down the main street," he said. No time for pessimistic thinking. They had a mission to find out what had happened, preferably before Starfleet came knocking. "I want eyes to both sides and behind, phasers out."

He and Spock led the group, with two guards flanking the sides and two walking behind facing backward. They kept their pace slow and steady, ears picking up every rustle of sparse shrubbery and every squeak of a loosely hinged sign. But still the settlers were nowhere to be found. They just seemed...gone.

"Spock, any ideas?" Jim said quietly.

"There seems to be a high number of alien lifeforms in the building to our right. They read similarly to the organism that we captured earlier."

Jim stopped abruptly and turned toward the concrete building beside them. If he focused enough, he thought he could just make out the sound of barking, faint as if stifled behind layers of wool.

"Let's head inside," he decided. "Everybody up to it?"

He honestly would have allowed any one of them to stay back, even if it meant he'd go in alone. Obviously he was relieved that the others followed after him without hesitation, but he didn't want to force them. Bad things always happened when a captain forced their crew into a dangerous situation. Bad things that often led to a guilt-ridden captain.

"Alright," he breathed, tightening his grip on his phaser. "Two of you guard the door. If they start to escape, shut it as fast as you can."

Two guards broke away and went to the hinge-side of the door, leaning against the wall eagerly. They nodded that they were in position.

"Ready?"

"Ready, captain," came the chorus of Spock and the two remaining guards behind him.

The door was formidable looking, concrete, tall, and sturdy. But when Jim fired a red beam at the handle, it sparked and came undone almost instantly. The door creaked open with uncomfortable slowness. And then the barking grew louder and louder.

Jim and Spock, flanked by the two guards, aimed right at the doorway. But nothing came out. The coast seemed clear.

"I'm going to head inside," said Jim. "Spock?"

"Right here."

A gentle smile found its way to Jim's lips. The ever-dependable Spock. Ready to march into the unknown just to be by his captain's side.

"You two stay out here," he ordered to the other two.

They didn't seem to want to argue.

Jim and Spock crept into the building one after the other. Half of the lights flickered on as they entered, just the motion-sensors working. The barking and yelping became almost deafening as they walked further and further into the room. Spock even covered his ears, awkwardly with the hand holding the phaser.

"They seem to be down this hallway!" Spock shouted above the noise.

Jim could have laughed at the sheer obviousness of the statement, if his heart wasn't pounding in his throat.

Another step and the rest of the lights came on.

Rows and rows of cages lined the room, fenced in with strong metal. Like some kind of dog shelter they used to have a hundred years ago back on Earth.

Jim carefully moved closer and looked into one of the cages. It seemed empty. Cold and lonely.

And then a dog-like creature lunged up and tore its snout into the wire right in front of his face.

Jim jumped back, crashing his back into Spock.

"Jim!" Spock cried out with wide eyes, before his Vulcan training could stifle his emotions again.

At least Jim knew he wasn't the only one freaking out.

"I'm alright, Spock." He regained his composure; fixed his shirt.

Spock seemed to have righted himself as well. The fear in his eyes had already subsided to his usual mild curiosity as he looked at the caged alien.

"It appears to be a similar organism to the one we met earlier," he said.

"This one looks like a Jack Russell, though. The other was definitely a Doberman," Jim said confidently.

Spock lowered an eyebrow.

"Captain, I fail to see how a species indigenous to an alien planet resembles a common Earth dog. Especially given its green coloring."

"I mean...it looks like a Jack Russell. I didn't say it was a Jack Russell," said Jim, exasperated.

Spock tilted his head in response. Jim would have been more irritated, but he noticed the quick wince Spock's face made and the barely-stifled jerk of his hand toward his ear. His first officer was obviously getting an ear-ache from all of the noise, and honestly he was too.

"Let's stun them all for now and get them up onto the ship," Jim decided. "They all seem to have the same problem the other one did. And they look pretty hungry, too."

Spock quickly stunned the alien, which fell unconscious instantly. But he paused as Jim went over to the next cage.

"Does the sickbay have enough storage areas for all of these animals? By my readings, there are at least 37."

Jim stunned a cat-looking thing with blue whiskers and then sighed.

"I don't know, Spock. But we also can't just leave them here. God knows what's causing all of this. It could be in the air."

This seemed to satisfy Spock. Or at least, he started to help Jim knock out the aliens. For all Jim knew, Spock was just trying to get out of there as fast as possible so he could cure his headache.

"Michener; Abbington!" Jim called, opening the hastily-closed lock on the first dog's cage.

The two security guards burst into the space with phasers at the ready. But when they saw the rows of animals, they froze in bewilderment.

"We're beaming the animals up to sickbay. Can you each take a couple at a time?"

Michener picked up a small dog-like creature and a cat, while Abbington took two cats. Spock and Jim each took one of the larger dogs, and the whole group of them transported up with their load.

Jim had to laugh and simultaneously cringe as he wondered what Bones would say about all of this.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Jim!" Bones shouted, rounding on his captain with fire in his eyes. "What kind of an operation are you running here? I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian!"

Jim had to admit that his plan wasn't fool proof. Already some of the animals were waking up. They were healthy and seemed temperate enough, but the sickbay was no place for 37 dogs and cats, if you could even call them that.

"I know it's not ideal, Bones…"

"Jim…" Bones adjusted his weight on his feet, bringing his hands together in prayer position. "That green thing has been barking since it woke up. Two hours ago."

"The Jack Russell?" Jim asked, searching around for it in the crowd of awakening animals sitting in a pen in the corner.

Bones rolled his eyes and huffed.

"If that thing's a Jack Russell, I'm a Vulcan," Bones muttered under his breath. He shook his head and looked at Jim in earnest again. "Look, they've all got food; they've got their vaccines. I just need them out of medbay."

Jim chewed his bottom lip for a minute, looking around the room. 37 alien dogs and cats. Missing settlers. This was probing to be a more interesting day than he had hoped.

Then again, when had they ever had a normal day on the Enterprise?

"I think I've got an idea."

"I'll take anything," cried the weary doctor.

Jim gave him a smile that seemed to improve the doctor's mood almost in itself.

. . . . . . . . . .

When Jim next entered the sickbay, it was blissfully quiet. The animals were gone. The patients were sleeping. Only the soft sounds of scanners beeping and air ventilation; utterly perfect for his ringing ears.

He found McCoy sitting with feet propped up on his desk, a bottle of whiskey dancing in his hand. The doctor gave him a wide smile as he entered, which only shadowed slightly as his eyes landed on the creature beside Jim.

"You took one of them?" Bones asked sounding disappointed.

"What kind of a captain would I be if I made my crew foster a bunch of animals and I didn't?" Jim said with a grin.

"You're enjoying this a bit too much," said Bones. He poured himself another drink and took a sip.

"It's a Doberman! Just like my old dog when I was a boy."

"Yours wasn't purple, I'm assuming."

Jim gave his dog a few pats and coos, which only made Bones take another drink of his whiskey.

The door whooshed open again to reveal Spock, standing stiffly but stroking a green cat that lay across one of his arms. Bones deflated.

"Not you too," Bones whined.

"It is the duty of officers to set an example for the rest of the crew," said Spock. "And I find myself enjoying this animal's company."

"Because it can't argue with you?" Bones asked with a smirk.

"Okay you two. That's enough," Jim interjected. "Bones, thank you for helping with the medicines and vaccines. Spock, thank you for your help on Edyria and for fostering one of the cats."

With that, Bones and Spock murmured their "no problem"s and "I was only performing my duty"s and the trio took a breath. Spock's cat yawned, and then Jim's dog did the same. Then, to his dismay, so did Bones.

"You both better get to sleep soon. We had a long day and tomorrow's probably gonna be even longer. Any word on those settlers yet, Jim?"

Jim frowned; shook his head. The Doberman whimpered softly.

"Well," Bones added, sensing Jim's discomfort. "No use worrying about it now. Tomorrow is another day."

Jim flashed a smile up to McCoy, then to Spock before he left with the Doberman at his side. The smile dropped as soon as he was out the door, and the dog seemed to sense it. His ears drooped pitifully.

Jim paused near the medbay door and crouched in front of the dog.

"I'll find out what happened on your planet," he promised, scratching the dog behind the ears. "Don't you worry."

The dog seemed happy with that, smiling as it panted. That would have to do for Jim, too, for tonight. After a day like this, he was in need of some shut-eye.

Who knew what new adventures awaited him tomorrow?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Captain's log: stardate 4497.4. All of the animals have been placed in temporary care by members of the crew, including myself and Mr. Spock. The animals seem domesticated, mimicking behaviors of our Earth dogs and cats. They do not seem capable of survival on their own, so they will remain on the Enterprise until either their owners are found or some other alternative becomes available."

Jim didn't shut off the recorder just yet, but spent a moment searching the room. His Doberman was laying by Spock's feet, looking up at the first officer's cat. They seemed to be friendly with each other, at least. The cat seemed unafraid and the dog's tail wagged in joy. And they didn't seem to be bothering Spock. He was as absorbed as ever in his scans and calculations; though every now and then Jim caught him stroking the cat's fur.

He turned to face the viewscreen again. This time, his eyes landed on Sulu's cat, whose tail flicked Chekov's chin enough to make the young man laugh out loud, ducking away from it. The cat strolled confidently across the panel toward its temporary owner. It avoided buttons and switches for the most part.

Until it didn't.

"Whoops," Sulu breathed with a gasp. He snatched his cat up into his arms and lunged for the controls, which were beeping furiously.

Jim massaged his temple and quietly ended his log entry.

Something had to be done about this. The settlers were still missing. Animals were all over his ship, probably causing trouble and distraction in every department.

Eventually, his brain stumbled onto an idea.

"Mr. Spock; meet me in the transport room in twenty minutes. We're going back down there. And bring your cat."

Spock gave him a strange look, but only nodded in response. Satisfied, Jim hopped out of his seat and waited for his Doberman to join him by the turbolift.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. And...let's keep the animals off of the controls."

"Aye, sir," Sulu said with a blush.

. . . . . . . . .

"Joining us, Bones?" asked Jim, strolling through the opening door into the transport room. He was trailed by the purple Doberman, who looked up at Bones with big black eyes.

Bones looked away as soon as he saw the creature.

"Someone's got to, if you're not even taking a security team." Bones crossed his arms with a faint smile. "I'm happy to get out, anyway. Yesterday just about gave me a headache into next week."

Jim's eyebrows furrowed.

"Not a fan of pets?"

"Pets are fine. Dogs. Cats. Those aren't it," he said with a pointed look at the Doberman. "We don't even know anything about them. They could be dangerous. Or diseased."

Jim smirked, giving a small glance to the dog at his side.

"I thought you cured them yesterday. Or should I put them all back in sickbay?"

Bones rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean. You know I'm wary of new aliens. Oh, speak of the devil."

Spock had just entered, carrying his cat in his arms. Bones gazed at it with a raised brow.

"I have attached a collar with a musical device to the feline, in case it goes missing while we are on our mission," Spock said. His formal words were softened by the way he stroked the cat's thick fur.

"Of all the things you'd get attached to, of course it would be a green cat-thing we found hissing and clawing everyone that came near it," murmured Bones.

Jim shot him a quick dismissive look, which seemed to quiet him rather quickly. He turned to Spock with a warm smile.

"That was a good idea, Spock. Intuitive, as always."

Jim made his way to the transport before either of them could respond. He loved them, but the bickering wouldn't help them find the settlers and it wouldn't keep them safe from animal attacks.

"So what's your plan, Jim?"

Jim gave him that mischievous smile again; the one that made Bones regret coming along for the ride.

"We're going to let these two loose and see where they go," said Jim. "They might lead us to their homes, or their owners. Then we can at least have a starting place."

If Bones had any qualms about that plan, he released it in a small sigh. He and Spock joined Jim on the transporter.

"Engage," he said to the guy working the transporter.

This time, he didn't even let himself worry about what they would or wouldn't find down there.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Mr. Spock, put your cat on the ground."

They stood in the center of the settlement. It was still a ghost town; tumbleweeds blowing gently back and forth across the street. Bones gazed around with wide, alert eyes. The orange glow took some getting used to, as did the silence. Colonizing machines whirred somewhere in the buildings around them, but other than that, there was only silence.

It was a little more than eerie.

Spock set his cat down, and instantly it tore off. Its little jingling bell grew fainter and fainter as it sprinted down the street. It was like a study in cat motion; it's legs and forearms moving in perfect form. And then it was a study in Vulcan motion, as Spock raced after it.

Bones couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Jim found it difficult to stifle a laugh, too, if he were honest. But his anxieties about the group separating outweighed the humor. Grounding himself, he started after Spock.

"Let's stay togeth-"

And then his dog was running off, in a different direction. Bones heard a disgruntled murmur before his captain sprinted off as well, leaving him in the middle of the street.

Spock was already halfway down the block and now Jim was going off to the right, into one of the closer buildings.

"Jim!" He called, feeling helpless and a little bit ridiculous. "Where should I go?"

Jim was already in the house, whose door hadn't even been shut to block out the dog. Bones sighed and looked around himself for a moment. He suddenly felt very nervous. Like the rocks were watching him from their stern facades.

Maybe it was some version of premonition. Because less than half a minute later, a loud creaking noise came from the house Jim had run into, and then dust fluttering up from the roof.

"Jim!"

Bones ran with all his might into the building. He searched the darkness, heart pounding in his throat. It was a normal little house, but almost empty. Actually, completely empty. Because Jim was definitely not in here, and neither was his dog.

Bones stepped carefully into the largest room, where the creaking noise was still faintly meeting his ears. His eyes instantly went to the floor, where a patterned design was shifting.

No, closing.

It was a giant door; a slab of some kind of metal sliding shut over...something. Like a trap door, but bigger.

"Jim!" He cried again, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

But there wasn't a response. In that moment, he would even have welcomed a bark or a yelp, but there was just nothing but silence.

Hew chewed his lip for a moment, and then had another thought. He tore back into the street and down the block. Luckily his addled mind had made sure to note the building Spock had entered.

"Spock!" He called. His nerves were as frazzled as someone running from a cheetah, but he tried to keep his composure. "Spock! Where are you?"

He entered a room that looked just like the large room from Jim's house. And, as he feared, there was that same decorated floor covering sitting there, metal sliding into place over a great abyss.

Running out of options and rationality, Bones knelt on the metal and banged it with his fist. He couldn't even feel the impact, as anxious as he was. He just kept hitting it and hitting it, wishing he had a giant key that could get it open. But it didn't budge and it didn't dent.

He sat back on his haunches and stared at the floor for a moment. Best scenario, Kirk and Spock were somewhere safe but inaccessible. Worst scenario, they were suffocating in a tiny covered space under alien homes.

Right, sometimes running through the possibilities did more harm than good, because now Bones was properly freaking out.

He had his communicator whipped out before he'd even made a conscious decision to do so.

"McCoy to Enterprise. Spock and Kirk are gone. I repeat; they've disappeared. Under some kind o-of trap door."

The response came through clearly, but was garbled somewhere between his communicator and his brain. He never got this nervous in the sickbay; not when he had the ball in his court and a series of tried and true procedures to work with. But this wasn't sickbay, and he certainly didn't have the ball in his court.

So Dr. McCoy beamed up sweaty, shaking, and wishing he were with either of his friends, wherever they may be.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim started breathing again when he realized that he was on a type of elevator and the floor was not collapsing under him. The Doberman yelped once, but then he seemed fine too.

"Bones!" Jim called up to the receding square of light above him. But it would be a miracle if he heard: something was already starting to cover the roof above the elevator, sliding over and blocking out the light.

Locking Jim down here. Wherever 'here' was.

The elevator stuttered to a stop. The dog jumped out immediately, and Jim followed soon after him. At least there was safe ground all around the elevator, and a roof at least a dozen feet above him. The air was breathable. He wasn't injured.

So wherever he was and whoever sent him here, they weren't trying to kill him. Or at least they weren't trying to kill him yet. But regardless, he wasn't about to wait for any answers.

Jim whipped out his communicator.

"Kirk to Enterprise." Nothing. "Captain Kirk to the Enterprise; do you read me?"

Static and buzzing was the only reply. He fiddled with the dials; changed a few settings. Batted the thing against his hand for all the good it would do.

No response.

And then the blasted dog started barking.

Jim rolled his eyes as the thing ran off down one of the corridors. But he stashed his communicator away and followed after it. Maybe he wouldn't admit it to anyone, certainly not to his crew, but Jim Kirk did not like being trapped anywhere by himself.

"What are you after?" He asked the dog, as it continued its run in front of him.

Finally they entered another section of the cave system, where stood a similar looking elevator as well as a familiar Vulcan. The green cat rubbed against Jim's legs and then nuzzled noses with the Doberman.

"Mr. Spock," Jim said casually. Then his eyes inflated as they landed on Spock's hand. "Were you injured?"

A flicker of a smile crossed Spock's lips.

"Only by the feline alien. It was apparently shocked by the movement of the floor and used its claws to hold onto me."

"No signs of cat scratch fever?" Jim asked playfully.

"Not as yet, captain."

Jim's expression softened. Comforted by Spock's presence, he trailed his gaze across the walls and ceiling of the cave.

"Any idea where we are?"

Spock looked down at his Tricorder to find it as frazzled and unresponsive as Jim's communicator had been.

"I would assume we are located just under the settlement. But the construction of the cave system is still a mystery, as well as its purpose. This colony had not yet started its underground development."

Jim stewed over that for a moment, thinking hard.

And then the stupid dog ran off yet again. Jim looked to Spock with exasperation, but then started after the dog.

"Last time he led me to you, so it might be important."

Against both of their wishes, Jim and Spock chased after the dog. Spock's cat followed, too, and somehow got ahead of Kirk.

"What kind of medicine did Bones give them?" He grumbled bitterly, feeling a stitch in his side. He forced his legs forward, though, trying to keep a mind on which ways they had turned.

They rounded one more corner and found the dog and cat pacing. Jim took one deep breath and then had it stolen from him again as he looked up.

"There are the settlers," he murmured.

In front of them was a room; no, it was to big to be referred to as such. It was a building in itself. Like a hospital, but everyone was asleep. At least, Jim's hopeful heart assumed that they were asleep.

Spock even seemed surprised for a moment, eyebrows raising. He was quiet. But as soon as Jim stepped forward to enter, he grabbed his arm.

"Jim," he breathed.

Jim couldn't help but be a little irritated by the action, even if he completely trusted and understood his first officer's worry. He paused, but pulled his arm out of Spock's grasp.

"Spock, we have to make sure they're okay."

"I do not think it is wise," Spock stated, a fraction too loudly. Adopting that stiff Vulcan tone was his way of being angry, even if he would never admit it.

"I'll go in by myself, then. You can stay here." Jim took one more step toward the entrance and found Spock already at his side.

Loyal as ever. It almost made him cringe to know how much power he had over Spock, but he had to admit he was glad of it right now.

Spock's cat gave out a loud meow, and then a hiss. It marched back and forth in front of the door, and then wandered back to the Doberman's side where it huddled by the dog's leg.

Jim gave one more look to Spock.

"Ready?"

Spock nodded in affirmation. They stepped in.

And...nothing happened.

"See? I told you-"

And then a metal door slammed shut right behind them, completely blocking them off from the cave section they had just been standing in. Faintly, they heard the Doberman bark at the sudden noise.

Jim felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"There are some things I just shouldn't say," he murmured.

"It was not your words that caused the door to close, captain. Obviously, it-"

"Spock."

There was something wrong. Not the (hopefully) sleeping settlers. No, there was something else. His head was spinning. Actually, it looked like the ground was spinning.

"There's a gas in the air," Spock said suddenly, confirming Jim's worries.

Jim whipped out his communicator again, hoping against hope, while Spock banged against the metal door.

"Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise, come in!"

All the dials and switches couldn't fix the communication: the signal simply couldn't reach this low below ground. And Jim's vision was starting to get hazy.

He stumbled into Spock, caught in the arms of the taller man and then gently set down into a seated position on a nearby boulder.

"Captain, perhaps we should lie down, so we do not further injure ourselves in a fall."

"Good...idea, Spock," Jim said between what felt like puffy lips. His mouth was going numb somehow, his vision pulsing black.

Spock helped him the rest of the way to the ground. And then the Vulcan settled beside him. In between bursts of exhaustion, Jim noticed that his eyes, too, were closing against his will.

"I'm sorry...Spock. Sorry I dragged you in here," Jim muttered. His words were becoming more and more garbled. "You knew it wasn't safe. I didn't listen."

Jim forced his eyes open one last time to find Spock already asleep and unresponsive, laying on his side. He reached one sleepy hand out to Spock's wrist to check for a pulse. But before he could even do that, he too had succumbed to the unnatural sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Chekov Has a Plan

McCoy had paced back and forth in front of the command chair well over a dozen times. His expression hadn't changed since he'd beamed up; all furrowed brows and a stiff upper lip. His whole body was rigid, hands locked together behind his back.

It was starting to unsettle even Scotty, who never let himself be worried when he had the conn.

"Doctor McCoy, we've been in scraps like this before," he said gently. "I'm sure they're alright, wherever they are."

"That's what I'm worried about, Scotty. We don't know where they are! They could be suffocating right now for all we know, and we're just floating up here circling the planet waiting for answers."

Scotty cast a wary glance around the room. He didn't want to send the doctor off of the bridge, but he was worrying the crew. Even Uhura seemed to feel a shiver go up her spine. And Chekov's dog whimpered at his harsh tone.

McCoy seemed to deflate after that last outburst, at least. He also, gratefully, lowered his voice.

"I'm sorry, Scotty."

"I understand. Guilt is running her course through the whole ship. Mister Sulu was worrying about his cat bringing us off course. Poor lad was so anxious about it, I let him have a break."

Scotty smiled, and it made McCoy smile a little bit too.

"I just don't like not knowing," he confessed, barely about a whisper.

Scotty thought it over for a moment, and then looked tor Chekov.

"Mister Chekov."

"Yes Keptin? Or, er, yes, Commander?"

"Didn't you have a plan for holding that elevator cover in place before it could shut all the way?"

Chekov happily bounced out of his seat.

"Yes! I was vondering if we could bring our phasers down to the planet and, when someone opens the cover, we can blast the door that comes out to cover ze hole."

"Do you think the phasers will work on that thing?" McCoy wondered, eyes lighting up hopefully.

Scotty shrugged.

"I think it's worth a shot."

McCoy chewed his bottom lip. But with his nerves frazzled the way they were and no other options in sight, it was a short thought process.

"Alright," he conceded. "Can I borrow Chekov and a few security officers?"

Scotty nodded with a smile, a bit relieved that the good doctor would have something to take his mind off of his worries for a little while.

"Just make sure to bring 'em back in one piece, if you can."

McCoy's face fell, as did Scotty's.

"I'm sorry, doctor, I-"

"It's alright Scotty." McCoy forced a smile. "I know what you meant."

Scotty sighed, turning his chair restlessly back and forth.

"I'm sure that they're alright, Dr. McCoy."

"I think I am, too," McCoy said quietly.

They shared one last smile before McCoy led Chekov and his dog onto the Turbo lift.

. . . . . . . . .

"Alright, everybody know the drill?" McCoy barked, stepping onto the transporter beside Chekov and a few red shirts. He gave Chekov's dog a stern frown, but then went back to business. "Phasers on stun. And Chekov, keep a hold on that dog's leash. If it runs off, do not follow it unless you have someone with you. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, sir," Chekov said, standing up straighter.

McCoy couldn't help but smile at the boy's enthusiasm. But when he turned back to the lieutenant working the transporter, he remembered their mission. He remembered the emptiness of the ghost town. He remembered the fear of watching the trap door close.

As he commanded the transporter to engage, McCoy felt a shiver run down his spine.

. . . . . . . . .

Being here once before did not ease the discomfort of the town for McCoy. In fact, he was more freaked out by it now than he had been earlier. The tumbleweeds seemed to blow just a little too infrequently; the signs creaking in ever so slightly a higher, squeakier pitch.

"Chekov, let your dog lead the way," he said tightly.

"Sorry, sir?"

His head whipped around faster than he meant it to.

"You heard me, ensign." He loosened up a bit after that, letting out a slow sigh. "Believe me, I wouldn't rely on those things unless I had to."

Chekov raised his eyebrows at McCoy's jibe at his dog, but stayed quiet.

The small unit followed the dog's pointed nose down the middle of the street. Perhaps it was silly; maybe even foolish. But it was what Spock and Kirk had done, so McCoy was forced to comply if he wanted to end up in the same place they were.

He could only hope that that place was a desirable place to be.

Suddenly Chekov's dog barked, and then pulled. Pavel took hold of its leash with both hands, digging his boots into the dirt.

McCoy jumped into action, turning rapidly from the dog to the building it was pulling toward, tricorder at the ready.

"Chekov, keep a hold on it."

"Yes, sir!" called Chekov through gritted teeth.

Carefully, he let the dog have a little slack so that it could lead them toward the building. When they reached the front door, McCoy assigned two security officers to stay outside. He and Chekov shared a look, and then pushed open the door.

The dog was practically dragging Chekov at this point, tugging him closer and closer to the room adjacent to the front room.

"Have your phaser ready?" McCoy asked.

Red in the face, Chekov braced himself against the wall and maneuvered his phaser from his pocket.

"Yis, doctor," he gasped.

McCoy peeked into the next room and found that same pattern on the floor; the same metal.

"I'm going down alone," he said.

"But-"

"I need you here," McCoy explained. "Here, give me the leash."

Chekov slipped the leash off of his arm. McCoy snatched it as the dog continued to pull, and held it in a tight fist.

"Good luck, doctor."

McCoy looked at the dog, then to Chekov.

"Thank you, Chekov."

With that, McCoy stepped onto the platform. It move instantly, shaking under his feet. It was all he could do not to topple over. No wonder Jim and Spock couldn't get off of it in time; it started descending immediately, before McCoy could even catch his balance.

"Chekov, now!" He called up.

Sparks jumped at the juncture of the metal plate above McCoy's head. He shut his eyes for a moment as the light flared. Then, with a quick prayer, he looked up.

Yes! Chekov's plan had worked! The cover was jammed, only half covering the space above him. Chekov was jumping for joy.

McCoy let himself smile. A small victory among all this chaos was still a victory.

"Well done, Mr. Chekov. Tell Scotty you're a genius."

"Is zat an order, doctor?"

McCoy chuckled, though dread was forming a pit in his stomach as he realized how far underground he was descending.

"Yes, it is."

He thought he saw Chekov nod, and then step away from the trap door. McCoy was sad to see him go, if he were honest. The alien dog was his only company now in this darkness. The dog and the distant square of light that reminded him he wasn't as cut off as Spock and Kirk had been.

He wondered, briefly, how they had felt in that moment when they'd been locked down here. Spock was probably just 'fascinated'. And Jim, he'd learned, was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, so he'd probably enjoyed it too.

Lucky them.

McCoy stepped off of the platform as soon as it was on level ground. The ceiling wasn't too low, giving him some breathing space. But his alien companion had gone surprisingly quiet, staring down one of the tunnels.

McCoy hated that the stupid dog's wide eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"What is it? Do you hear something?" McCoy hissed.

The dog whined, and then started prancing in place.

And then the purple Doberman emerged from one of the tunnels. It saw McCoy and the other dog and barked instantly, so loudly that McCoy jumped. Or maybe had a heart attack. But then, just as suddenly, the Doberman was running back into the tunnel.

It stopped and looked at McCoy, and then whined just as Chekov's dog had.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Chekov's dog dashed into the tunnel, then. And both of them turned back to McCoy, who was still just next to the platform.

"You want me to go in there?" It was a dark tunnel, with a low roof lined with rocks and packed in dirt. Not exactly his favorite type of place.

But both dogs seemed adamant, both of them whining. So McCoy aimed both his phaser and his tricorder in front of them and followed, wherever they may lead him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

To Follow a Dog into the Darkness

The Doberman led the way, closely followed by Chekov's dog. Bones took up the rear with only a frown in mild complaint. To be honest, he was too nervous to be angry right now. The cave system was dark and eerie. Every time he shifted his gaze, he expected something to jump out at him; as if the shadows were living creatures waiting to strike.

That wasn't even mentioning the fact that Kirk's dog was here but he and Spock were not. And where the devil was the hobgoblin's green cat?

"I really hope you're not leading me into a trap," he muttered to the two dogs.

Suddenly he wondered when he'd started to think of these rainbow colored aliens as Earth-like pets. Probably Kirk's ever-annoying optimism getting to him.

The Doberman sprinted around the corner, making Bones' heart skip a beat. But as he and Chekov's dog rounded the corner, he calmed slightly.

"It's only a door," he said, irritated.

The Doberman pawed at the metal, whining. Next to it was Spock's cat, staring intently at the same door. When Chekov's dog joined them, pacing furiously between them, Bones decided maybe they were onto something.

"You want me to go in there?" His head perked up. "Is that where Jim and Spock are?"

He could only guess; he didn't speak dog or cat, and he certainly didn't speak the dialect these aliens spoke.

Biting his bottom lip, he considered his situation. It was dark, it was quiet, and his Tricorder, he noticed with a lurch, was barely functioning. His communicator was probably spotty, too, this far underground.

The only way was forward; and the only way forward was through that metal door.

Bones examined the material. Too hard to smash through with his fist, even if he'd been in his prime. And no panel in sight. Not that he was any good at breaking security codes, but at least it would've been an option.

So Bones took out his phaser and aimed it at a spot above the animals. They seemed to sense he was doing something and stepped back. The cat's tail wrapped around his knee, and he fired.

It didn't seem to do anything at first. A bright red spot glowed where the laser beam hit, but no hole was made.

"Come on," said Bones to himself and the unyielding door.

Yes! One small point of the beam cut through. Bones slowly cut a shape into the door, stretching the beam into an outline. Soon enough, a thin red rectangle glowed from the doorway.

As soon as Bones let go of the button on his phaser, the cut portion of the door fell forward. He and the animals jumped back, though they'd been far enough back regardless.

Bones peered through the new doorway with wide eyes. A shimmering effect in the doorway made everything beyond blurry; a force field of some kind. But he could definitely see the shapes of bodies. Many, many bodies in a room much lager than he had anticipated.

The animals stayed in their seated positions, staring anxiously at the opening. Bones wondered if they knew something he didn't. But he dismissed his fears: people needed him, and they maybe needed him quickly.

A moment of courage later, his feet were standing right in front of the door. Another second and his hand was through the forcefield. It tickled, but seemed to be harmless. Probably just maintaining the atmosphere in the room. Perhaps it kept the dust from the cave rocks from...whatever this room was.

With a deep breath, Bones stepped into the room. His eyes first landed on the distant wall, seemingly half a mile away. Then the bodies in the distance, all laid on their backs and unmoving. So many people it made his chest ache. He could only hope they weren't...

"Jim! Spock!" Bones cried, as his eyes came to rest on the two bodies in front of him, just a few feet away.

They were on the ground, just like the others. Jim's hand reached out to Spock without quite touching, both of them laid on their sides against the angular rocks. Their shirts and faces were dirtied; cave dust, most likely.

They were not moving.

Bones felt his heart in his stomach. But he didn't let himself dwell. He knelt down and whipped out his medical scanner in one smooth motion. The device beeped gently as he whirred it over Jim's chest, then Spock's.

Bones felt his breath return to his lungs as the scanner picked up two heartbeats. No injuries, either, which was a miracle. He sat back on his haunches and watched his friends for a moment, just appreciating that they were alive.

Then suddenly he stumbled back, his eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

His Tricorder blared to life, trilling at him in a high pitch.

"Isoflurane?" Bones muttered. "Why-?"

He didn't have time to think about it. The sedative was in the air! Then everyone in here might just be heavily sedated?

Bones accepted that thought for the moment, reattaching his medical scanner to his belt.

"Jim!" He called, tapping the captain's face.

But Jim didn't stir. Not even a twitch. And Bones was starting to feel light headed.

"Come on, Jim," he said, grabbing Jim under the arms.

Already feeling exhaustion seeping into his arms, Bones tugged Jim toward the doorway he'd created. It was only five feet or so, but it felt so much longer. Two steps in, Bones stumbled. Then he righted himself and forced a stern composure, hoisting Jim through the doorway.

He pulled him through until he was completely out of the way of the door. The dogs surrounded him instantly, licking his face as soon as Bones set him down. The cat hung by the door, staring intently at Spock.

"I know," Bones breathed, gasping for air. "I need a...moment."

At least the air in the cave was unaffected by the isoflurane. Whoever made that room knew what they were doing; for whatever reason it was, they made an entire isolated sedation room.

But Bones didn't have time to contemplate the 'why' just yet. As the cat pointed out with a few grumpy meows, he still had a Vulcan to save.

"On my way," he said to the cat as he reentered the space.

This time, the isoflurane hit almost immediately, making him tired and dazed even as he stumbled through the doorway. But he pushed through the fog in his head and grabbed Spock under the arms the same way he'd done for Jim.

The downside was, of course, that Vulcans were considerably heavier than humans, and Bones was no heavyweight. He tugged Spock with all his might, moving him about a foot. That left four feet to go, and he was winded enough by the isoflurane to collapse right about now.

Bones forced himself to pull Spock another two steps. Then his vision blacked out. It was only a moment, but it was a long enough moment to send him sprawling to the floor. Spock's back and, to Bones' dismay, head crashed back onto the floor as he slipped out of the doctor's grip.

"Sorry Spock," grunted Bones, getting back to his shaky feet.

At this point, Bones probably looked like the walking dead and he certainly felt like it. His arms were jelly as they wrapped around Spock's. But again, he ignored his own feelings and focused on getting out of there.

One last tug and they were back in the cave. Another and they were back into the complete safety of the cave. Well, as safe as an alien cave system could be.

Bones pulled Spock with one more hearty tug and then collapsed. For a good minute he only breathed. Let the adrenaline run its course, leaving aching arms and a strong feeling of relief in its wake.

When he was feeling a little bit more alive, Bones opened his eyes and he laughed, somewhat manically.

"We're out. We're safe."

He said it like a mantra, turning to Jim and Spock. They were both still deeply unconscious, eyes closed and bodies lying so utterly still.

Bones' smile faltered.

"Jim?" he asked. Ignoring the discomfort, he made his way over to the captain.

Jim's hair was plastered to his head, but his face looked calm. No scratches. And according to the medical Tricorder, no injuries.

Bones didn't have the energy to do much right now, but he didn't have the apathy to do nothing. So he decided to do what he did best: run a medical assessment.

Of course he trusted the scanners and the technology; it had saved a thousand lives in a thousand different situations. But sometimes he liked to be a bit old fashioned. With gentle hands that betrayed his usual grumpy attitude, Bones took hold of Jim's wrist.

His pulse was extremely slow, but steady. It would do, for now, and made sense given the strong dose of sedative. In time, hopefully, it would rise up to its normal reading.

Moving on, Bones ran his hands up to Jim's face, then down his arms, checking for anything irregular. As his scans had indicated, Jim was fine.

Bones sat back on his haunches and looked the man over one last time. His blond hair was perking up again, and a soft smile played at his lips. Probably dreaming. Off in la-la land while Bones was stuck in this dirty old alien cave.

Typical old Jim.

Bones gave him his folded up medical shirt for a pillow and then accepted that he'd done everything he could. Now Jim just had to wake up.

Arms aching even more, Bones shifted over to Spock. He just now remembered that Spock may have been injured after he dropped him, and cursed himself for checking Jim first. He calmed himself with the idea that Vulcans are hardier than humans and set to work.

This time, he started at the head. Gently as he could, Bones turned Spock onto his side so that he could get a look at the back of the skull. Sure enough, there was a small amount of green dampening the jet black hair.

Bones cringed, digging into his medical bag.

"Sorry, Spock," he said quietly, running a quick stitcher over the wound. "Thought your skull was thicker than that."

He immediately grimaced at his own jibe, a pang of guilt hitting him in the chest. But luckily, Spock was still asleep and hadn't heard anything. That didn't make it okay, he knew, but it eased the guilt enough to allow him to continue working.

Spock was the same as Jim: no harmful effects of the gas and no lasting problems from the head wound; just deeply unconscious with a slow pulse.

Bones sat between his patients, letting the exhaustion take over. His arms hurt, especially from carrying Spock. His legs hurt. His head was still reeling from the gas, though he hadn't been in it nearly as long as the other two. Or, other dozens if he included all the other people in that blasted room.

God, he hoped that there weren't horrible effects from prolonged exposure to the gas. For all he knew, his friends were actually in danger and he didn't know about it. What if they never woke up? And what if the other people didn't wake up either?

Now his head was reeling even more. Hell, it had been stressful enough not knowing what had happened. And now that he did, there was just a whole new set of worries on his mind.

Bones let out a long sigh and looked over his friends again. Still sleeping. Still much too quiet. Still frighteningly unlike the duo he knew and loved.

Oh God, now he was admitting that he loved his friends. Maybe that gas had truth serum in it, too.

Wanting to let himself sink into the deep unconsciousness enjoyed by Spock and Kirk, Bones leaned his head against the rocky wall behind him. He shut his eyes for just a moment.

And then he heard footsteps.

His eyes opened wide. Forgetting all tiredness, he jumped over to Spock and Kirk and held his hands protectively over them. At least they weren't awake to see him now. Those jokes would never stop.

"Keptin'!" Chekov's voice rang out.

Bones' hands faltered, and then fell back to his sides.

"Chekov?"

"Dr. McCoy!"

A green blur burst into the room, with Chekov right behind. The cat went over to rub against Spock's arm, but Bones only had grateful eyes for the young ensign.

"Er, doctor?" Chekov asked in a worried voice, looking over his unconscious captain and officer. "Are they...?"

"That room is filled with sedative," explained McCoy. "The settlers are all still inside."

Now it was Chekov's turn to widen his eyes and look at the doctor incredulously.

"Ze settlers?! Should ve help them?"

He turned toward the door, but McCoy stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"The sedative is way too strong. I barely had time to pull these two out before I passed out." He took a long breath, feeling a bit lightheaded again. "I think we should get back to the Enterprise and figure out what to do then."

Chekov nodded, but still chewed his bottom lip as he stared at the captain.

"Okay. Zat sounds like a good plan."

McCoy clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"They'll be alright," he said, letting his southern drawl add a layer of warmth to his voice.

Chekov smiled, genuinely this time.

"I trust you, doctor."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The Doctor Makes a Decision

Christine found McCoy stood at the foot of Kirk's bed. He was in his pensive stance, lips set in a slight frown and arms crossed tightly across his medical blues. She read all of this instantly, used to it as she was, via a quick glance up from her PADD.

"Test results?" He asked tersely.

She responded to his grumpy tone with a smile he ignored. She didn't mind, though. The smile was for her. And the cats and dogs sitting patiently at her feet.

"Everything reads as normal, under the circumstances."

She noticed a bit of the tension in McCoy's shoulders wane. Not that he'd ever admit it; he merely shuffled his feet and added even more bite to his voice.

"Spock, too? I never know what to look for with his screwy readings."

Christine smiled again, if only to cater his negative attitude. And, with a blush, in response to Spock's test results.

"Normal for him," she said. "But there's no way to tell when they'll wake up."

That rose McCoy's tension back up. His eyes hardly blinked as he stared at the captain. It was as if he believed if he looked away, he would miss something. A blink. Or maybe a small twitch of the hand.

Just before Christine called his attention, McCoy shook his head and forced his eyes away. They glazed over Spock for a moment, a glimmer of guilt lining his mouth. Then they landed back on Christine.

"I have to go back down."

Christine's eyes widened as she lowered her PADD.

"What for?" she asked, her voice rising a pitch.

His eyes danced across her face, deep in thought. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion a few seconds later. Leaning in, he dropped his voice.

"Don't tell anyone else I said this, but we found the settlers."

Her eyes widened further, appearing more like blue marbles.

"Isn't that news for everyone? The whole crew have been-"

"It's complicated," he cut in. "They're all still in the same room we found these two; unconscious. We hope."

Christine looked back at Mr. Spock and the captain. She could understand why McCoy had seemed so shaken, now. To find a room full of people as still and deeply unconscious as these two must have been frightening, to say the least. Without the monitors and the very soft rise and fall of their chests, they could appear to be...

She shivered, a cool feeling running through her veins. If the doctor noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Well, I'd better go get a team together," he said.

"If Scotty allows it," Christine added with a forced laugh.

"Good point."

They stared at each other for a moment, an uncomfortable silence overtaking the near-empty sickbay. Slowly, their smiles were replaced with frowns; a dance of nerves accompanied by the soft beeps from the bio beds.

"Doctor," said Christine suddenly. "Be careful."

McCoy's smile returned.

"It's usually me saying that." He turned to Kirk and Spock one last time, still sleeping undisturbed. "Keep an eye on them. And if they wake up before I'm back, give 'em Hell."

"Will do."

With that, McCoy pushed himself out of sickbay, one last glance spared through the sliding door.

. . . . . . . . .

"Doctor, I'm already running the bridge on a skeleton crew!"

Like he'd expected, McCoy was having trouble convincing Scotty of his new plan. Perhaps making a bold claim while standing over the captain's chair hadn't been a very prudent idea. But it was what McCoy was used to. And Scotty was right: the bridge was already short staffed.

But McCoy was here, and he was making demands.

"Scotty, the entire settlement is down there and they might be in trouble. If it were a machine about to blow, then you would want to be down there. Now I'm a doctor and there are people who need me. And I need a crew to go with me and help get those people out of there!"

Scotty sighed, spinning the chair slightly to face Uhura's station. McCoy jumped over to stand in front of him again.

"Look, doctor," Scotty said. "I'm feeling a bit uneasy about all of this. What if it's a trap? Mr. Spock and the captain are already out of commission. I don't want to risk more of the crew."

"We know what to prepare for this time," McCoy assured.

Scotty spun away from him again. This time, McCoy let him have his space.

"Doctor McCoy..."

Scotty folded his arms across his chest and looked into those baby blues, lit up by the doctor's uniform. Damn.

"Alright. But you're only getting one from the bridge and a small security team."

McCoy smiled with sincere gratitude.

"Thank you Scotty."

"And doctor...be careful."

McCoy's eyes twinkled at the echoed instruction.

"I'll do my best."

. . . . . . . .

And he was back in the cave again, staring at that blasted door. The walls felt like they had eyes; or maybe that was Chekov and the small band of redshirts watching his every move.

McCoy sighed to himself. He hated being in command, especially on an alien planet. But it was the cards that life had dealt him, and he figured he had to get used to it. At least the animals were behaving, sitting patiently by the wall out of the way. And at least he had a gas mask this time.

"Masks on," he ordered.

When the others instantly slid their own masks over their faces, McCoy almost couldn't believe it. He was so used to being ignored, especially by Kirk. Maybe he did like commanding, when his team actually listened to him.

"Doctor," said Chekov. "I think ve can carry at least two at a time, between ze five of us."

McCoy nodded, but then held a hand out. "Let's just rescue one of them at first. We still don't know much about this, and I want to run at least one medical scan."

"Yes, doctor."

Yeah, McCoy was enjoying being in charge today.

They walked through that same door and came upon the eerie scene again. The bodies lay exactly where they'd been before. With the mask protecting him, McCoy was able to make it over to the closest settler, a young man about Chekov's age.

He gave a look to two of the redshirts.

"Can you two carry him out to the hallway?"

The security team was by his side within a few strides. But as they reached down to pick the man up, McCoy heard movement on the other side of the room. He glanced over to Chekov to ask him about it.

And then a voice yelled, "Stop!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The Help of a Stranger

Bones whirled around. His heart was practically pounding in his chest, unexpected as the strange voice was. Behind him, Chekov and the redshirts were frozen in place.

From the dark shadows of the cave emerged a figure, slightly smaller than himself. A woman; or, er, an alien woman wearing a mask herself. Upon closer inspection she had blueish skin and small antennae.

Not one of the human settlers, then.

"Who are you?" Bones asked, in the toughest voice he could muster under the circumstances.

She approached quickly, almost gliding toward them. Bones unconsciously shuffled back a step. But she didn't seem to have anything malicious in her eyes.

In fact, she was wearing what looked like a lab coat. A doctor or a scientist of some kind. Her hands were covered in the same gloves that Bones had grown to hate over the years.

Bones didn't know if he was relieved to find another doctor, albeit an alien one, or if it made him more anxious. He had never been keen on being a patient. And he had certainly never been keen on being a patient to an alien stranger.

"Why did you tell us to stop?"

Her hands wrung together, antennae bopping back and forth above her head. She was the picture of anxiety. Unless this was all a trap...

Bones really hated being in command. He could never emphasize how much he hated it. Back in sickbay, that's where he belonged. That's where he knew the right decisions to make. Down here on the ground? It felt like his brain was scattered. Probably something to do with the ruddy transporter.

So, again, he was forced to make a decision without much to go on.

"Get that man out of here," he said to the redshirts.

They complied, throwing each other nervous glances as they went. Chekov followed them out to the corridor.

"You should not have done that," the alien doctor stated boldly. Her mouth was a straight line, fists clenched at her sides. Yet she did not move to stop them, nor to attack Bones.

"And why not? For all I know you're keeping these people locked up so you can experiment on them or something." Personally, he didn't believe his own theory. But the air was mighty thin with his mask on and this lady was properly freaking him out. Not to mention the image of Kirk and Spock still passed out in sickbay.

The other doctor sighed, looking away from him.

"My name is Herra," she said. That anger in her voice was controlled, but still present. "My people live in the caves. We didn't know that strangers were coming, or we would have warned them."

"Warned them of what?"

Her hands wrung together again.

"The disease. The madness. It affects everybody except those who are indigenous to our planet. Even the settlers' animals."

Bones felt the pieces of the puzzle coming together. That prickle of disbelief still hung around his stomach, but her words did seem genuine. She seemed worried, actually. Like she thought he was going to hurt her.

"I think that there's been a misunderstanding, then," said Bones. He tried a smile, one he learned way back in Georgia. Always smile when you're trying to make a situation better, that's what he had been taught.

It seemed to work a treat. Herra smiled, too; softly.

"You need to bring that man back in here before-"

"Doctor!" Chekov's voice echoed.

Bones' eyes widened. Then he and Herra both dashed over to the entrance and found the redshirts and Chekov struggling with a very awake settler. He had that same mad look in his eye that the animals had when they'd first encountered them. He was even foaming slightly at the mouth; an image Bones would not soon erase from his mind.

"Get him back into the sedation room!" Herra called.

Bones bit back a sarcastic response. Grabbing the man under the arm, he tugged open his medical kit and dug around. Chekov, the good kid, had the guy by the nape of his neck so he couldn't bite Bones.

Thank god, because Bones would absolutely never leave the ship again if that happened.

With shaking, bumbling hands, Bones managed to plunge a hypo into the guy's arm. Instantly, his muscles relaxed. Chekov and one of the redshirts took hold of the man's arms as he sagged down toward the ground.

Bones stepped back and took a few deep breaths. Holy hell that had been a close call. Another few seconds and he or one of his men would have been afflicted with the same awful disease. And then where would they be?

"Let's get him back inside," he breathed.

"No argument from me," said Chekov.

For once, Bones allowed himself to smile at the kid's humor. It was a mighty gift in times like these, to be able to crack a joke after almost being killed. And one that, unfortunately, was one of the most important skills a future commander needed to learn.

Back inside the cave, with all the settlers asleep, Bones sat on a boulder beside Herra.

"We should've listened to you right away."

"You couldn't have known to trust me," she assured. "I didn't trust you either."

Bones brushed some dust off of his pants, gazing around. This really was an extraordinary place, if he thought about it. The ceiling was a hundred feet above them; the room an ancient football field across at the very least.

"This planet wasn't supposed to be inhabited," he said suddenly. "There's a whole civilization down here we didn't know about."

Herra frowned intensely, staring at the floor. Her fingers intertwined rapidly.

"I expect your people will be very upset. But it was an accident, I assure you. We didn't know that newcomers would arrive. Or that we were carriers for a disease unknown to us."

Bones took a gentle hold of her arm. He gave her that smile again, waiting until she looked into his eyes.

"Herra, we have medicine for the disease. We're just glad that the settlers are safe; we were sure they'd all been killed. There are other planets for us to settle on."

Herra's eyebrows furrowed.

"So...your people will not be angry?"

"A little frustrated, maybe. They built a whole town up on the surface thinking this planet was empty. But that was our mistake, not yours."

Herra's eyes widened. She sat up straighter, jumping slightly.

"Wait; did you say there is a medicine?"

Bones nodded.

"Well sure. I already cured the animals. The people shouldn't be too difficult."

Herra's smile widened. Then she deflated again, almost as suddenly.

"I am sorry we had to use so much sedative. But the people who were infected were not quieted with a normal dose. It took this much just to keep them unconscious."

Bones frowned too, again. He bit his bottom lip and kicked a pebble that was close to his boot.

"That's the only thing I'm worried about. Two of our people were down here for a while, without masks. They weren't infected, either. They still haven't woken up yet."

Herra's antennae drooped, her blue skin paling.

"We did what we could to keep people out. The door must have locked them inside instead of out."

Bones forced a smile.

"Well, who knows? Maybe they're already awake."

Footsteps waltzed over to where they were seated. Bones turned up to find Chekov, waiting patiently with his hands behind his back.

"Ve are ready to go back to ze Enterprise, sir. I have ze coordinates for Mr. Scott to transport the settlers to sickbay. Ve should be able to get a lock on zhem now."

Bones pushed himself up.

"Good work, Chekov."

He turned to Herra.

"Give my regards to your people," he said with a slight bow. "They have a mighty fine doctor."

"Not nearly as good as, er, what did he say? Z Enterprise?"

Bones chuckled at her version of Chekov's accent. Then, with one final bow, he rounded up Chekov and the redshirts and led them out of the sedation room.

As they meandered through the cave system again, Chekov jogged to catch up with him.

"Do you think ze captain and Mr. Spock are awake yet, doctor?"

A light in Bones' eyes dimmed. And that familiar ache returned to his chest.

"I hope so, Chekov."

He left it at that until they were back on the ship.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Awakening

Bones pretended he was grumpy. Secretly, that's what he always did when he was worried about Spock and Jim. A clever psychologist would point out that he was always grumpy, so did that mean that he was always worried about Spock and Jim?

That clever psychologist would probably get a punch in the nose. But they'd also probably be correct. But only because Spock and Jim were so accident prone! Anyone with any sense would worry about those two. Bones just happened to have a lot of sense!

Now, this was the speech he had prepared while trudging through the endless web corridors between the transporter room and sickbay. If Christine wanted to know why he looked so angry, she'd get her answer.

But as soon as Bones stepped through the whooshing door, his excuses dropped. His grumpy expression dropped, too, as well as his jaw.

"Spock," he breathed. His voice was innocent; childish, even. God help him, his eyes were starting to water.

Spock glanced over from the biobed he was sat on. As soon as he winced, Bones rushed forward a step or two. But he stopped himself short.

Spock was okay. Spock was alive. Spock was okay.

Bones cleared his throat; righted his stature.

"We were wondering when you were going to wake up," he forced out.

What he really meant to say was 'we were wondering if you were going to wake up'. He shook at the thought, a shiver running up and down his spine. Like always, he turned to the medical PADD to distract himself.

"Readings are all normal. For you, anyway."

"Doctor," Spock sighed, throat scratchy from disuse. "You do not have to point out the differences between our biologies every time I am in sickbay."

Bones gave him a hard glare over his PADD, but didn't respond. Just like Bones had his quirks, so did Spock. And one of Spock's 'quirks' was that the further he was from Jim, the more annoying and sassy he became. When Jim was injured, Spock was hardly tolerable.

Admittedly, the Vulcan's affection for the captain was sweet. But there was a time and place for Vulcan sass and it wasn't in Bones' sickbay in the middle of a stressful mission.

"We figured out what was going on down there," said Bones.

That peaked Spock's curiosity. But Bones wasn't done punishing him yet. (Punishing him for scaring the wits out of him, that is. Punishing him for lying unconscious on a cave floor for Bones to find him).

"I'll tell you all about it when Jim wakes up. We don't want to do anything until he can help us with our diplomacy."

Spock nodded.

He said, "That is probably a good idea. Tact is not either of our strong suits."

Bones gripped the PADD tightly, feeling his lips set in a sharp frown.

"You better watch what you say to your doctor when you're sitting in sickbay," Bones grumbled. "I can keep you off duty for a month if you aren't careful."

Spock's dark eyes met his; a cat and a dog in a staring contest. Speak of the devil, a green cat suddenly jumped onto Spock's bed.

Surprised, Spock turned down to the creature, and then softly stroked its fur. It padded its feet on his legs, and then sat like a loaf on his lap. It seemed happy, at least.

"Oh Mr. Spock!" Christine called, rushing into the room. "I'm sorry. She's got a mind of her own."

"That's quite alright, Miss Chapel. Is this...?"

"It's the cat you adopted," she said with a smile. "She's been waiting for you to wake up all this time. I've been trying to keep the animals out of sickbay, but she's a stubborn one."

"Reminds me of someone else," murmured Bones. He shook his head and set the PADD down.

"Christine, can you check on the captain?" He asked.

Her smile wavered, but she nodded in ascent. With one last glance to Spock, she disappeared into the room next door.

Bones released a sigh, crossing his arms, and then sat on the bed next to Spock. Both Spock and his cat seemed disturbed by the action; the former lowering his eyebrows and the latter standing up again.

"Spock," Bones said quietly. "I am glad to see you again. Awake, I mean."

Spock stared at a spot in the distance, but it was obvious he was thinking hard. The muscles of his jaw worked as he grit his teeth hard; a small detail Bones had picked up on over the years.

"Nurse Christine said that I was unconscious for over ten hours," Spock explained.

Bones let out another long breath.

"You don't have to tell me." His hand clenched and unclenched a few times, tapping on his leg.

"Damn it, Spock; I just wish you two would be more careful," Bones said tightly.

Spock blinked, eyebrows raising slightly.

"We took all usual precautions. The Tricorder was not working properly-"

"Which is when you should have beamed back up here."

A thick silence sat between them for a moment, broken only by the beeping medical equipment. Bones looked down at the floor, and then took yet another deep breath that was released in a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "You two scared me, is all. I walked in there and you were both on the ground hardly breathing. For a second it looked like..."

He breathed again, and then turned up to face Spock, finally.

"One of you out of commission is enough. But when it's both of you..."

"I understand, doctor."

They sat quietly for another minute before the door opened again. Christine reentered with a smile on her face, holding her PADD at her side.

"Doctor McCoy? Mr. Spock?"

They both jumped to their feet.

"The captain is waking up."


End file.
